


Catch Me If You Can

by fleurofthecourt



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurofthecourt/pseuds/fleurofthecourt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been several months since Elizabeth had asked if there were any new leads, and Peter had all but given up on finding the whereabouts of Neal Caffrey, when he receives something mysterious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch Me If You Can

Elizabeth walked in the door holding Satchmo’s leash in one hand and an oblong tube in the other. Peter glanced up from the case file he had been studying at the kitchen table.

“Hey hon, nice walk?”

“Yeah. You should come next time,” Elizabeth said as she set the tube down on the table. “This was on the doorstep; it’s addressed to you.”

Peter nodded, but he had already resumed reading his case file in earnest.

“Aren’t you curious?” Elizabeth asked, trying to incite Peter’s interest. He never really seemed to take a break from working on cases anymore, and Elizabeth tried to take every opportunity to sidetrack him. Although he’d been angry that Neal had disappeared, he’d initially felt a sense of purpose in looking for the young conman. But any clue that the White Collar division investigated seemed to be a dead end. They had pieced together that the most likely story was that Neal and Mozzie had left together on funds collected from fenced art (a few pieces of which Peter attested were forged by Neal). Thus, the only good conclusion that they had come to was that, if nothing else, Neal was probably safe and sound somewhere far from New York.

“It’s probably just the blue prints for the Yates building; nothing too exciting,” Peter said without looking up.

“Okay, suit yourself,” Elizabeth said as she put Satchmo’s leash away and walked out of the kitchen.

Shortly after Elizabeth had left, Satchmo ran back into the kitchen and jumped up on the chair next to Peter’s.

“Satchmo, get down from there,” Peter said while pushing the dog gently away from the table and his papers. As he did so, he accidentally knocked the tube back with his elbow. As it slid towards him, the stick-on label caught his eye. In pristine lettering, it read:

_Agent Burke, you no longer hold a perfect record._

His interest piqued, Peter picked up the tube and gently pulled out the contents. Inside was a thick sheet of cream colored paper with a rich drawing done in black and gray charcoal. Peter slowly unfurled the paper to reveal a slightly atypical beach scene.

Although there was nothing out of the ordinary about the waves lapping up on the shoreline, the Adirondack chair positioned against the dunes held an unusual occupant: a painting. The painting was of The Divine Statue in front of Saint John’s Cathedral.

At the bottom of the painting inside the sketch, if Peter looked closely, he could see a small inscription:

_I never got to say goodbye, so catch me if you can._


End file.
